


Prompts

by MakeTheShippingStop



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:53:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5742850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeTheShippingStop/pseuds/MakeTheShippingStop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odd Things is coming slowly, so I'm trying prompts as writing exercises.<br/>Feel free to send me recommendations here or through my tumblr of the same name!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evidence

His polished black shoes clicked against the wooden floor as he walked through the doorway and placed his briefcase on the table.  
Let out a deep sigh, shut the door behind him, and ran a few fingers through his hair.

He walked into the kitchen and, as he always did, instinctively looked at the most valuable items on the room.  
Today, it was his wine in the corner and then the beautiful, dense cake he'd made the day before. He was expecting guests that evening, and he'd made it in advance because he knew he'd have no time after work to do much besides get dressed. It was under a glass case, where he'd left it.  
Only, there was less of it there. Significantly. Really, there were a few crumbs left.

He wondered who the culprit could possibly be behind this impossible heist.

It was at that moment when his partner walked into the room holding a glass of milk.  
His face was stunned.  
"Um," he said, "you're home early."

Honestly.

"Your brothers are coming for dinner, remember? Good to see you too."  
He removed his suit jacket.  
"Well sure, 'course I do it's just," he tried to be subtle while pouring the milk into sink, "I thought you'd be home in maybe a half hour is all."  
"My love."  
He knew his words would strike well. That phrase meant he was in trouble.  
"Y-yes?"  
"Remember that time you got your wisdom teeth out approximately a decade late?"  
"...y'mean yesterday?"  
"Yes. Yesterday. Would you incidentally also remember that time your doctor told you to only eat liquids for at least two days?"  
"Where's uh. Where's this going?"  
"Did you eat my fucking cake."  
"...no."  
"Give me one good reason why I should believe you."  
"It would be a stupid thing, I can't eat solid food right now."  
"Yes it would be a stupid thing. But I said a good reason, you see."  
"I didn't do it! The dog probably ate it, why you gotta always blame me?!"  
He paused for a moment and then chuckled softly, walking slowly forward.  
"Three reasons, _mon amie_ : one, that cake was chocolate, and if a dog ate it we would have exactly one dead dog. Two, our dog is a cat. Three, you have chocolate all over your face."  
"Aww FUCK."  
He frantically went to scrub it off but his hands were caught midair  
"Allow me to help you with that, you fool."  
And then he was being kissed and it was slow and sweet and so deliberate.  
He got out some lines between kisses.  
"M'not a fool."  
Hand on his back.  
"No, but you're a terrible liar."  
Around a his waist.  
"It was really good, if it makes you feel any better."  
Closer.  
"A little. Now go to the bakery."  
Eased up enough to say,  
"I love you."  
"That's nice."  
"Wha-"  
"I love you too, my dear."

He felt a slap on his ass on the way out the door.


	2. Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Depression, obviously
> 
> Tumblr ask for a story featuring a headcannon about Spy and depression.  
> I hope the pacing doesn't feel too rushed.  
> It's a lot of big feels to fit into a short.  
> Heh heh  
> Hope it's okay.  
> (๑•́ ω •̀๑)ノ  
> Thanks so much for submitting a prompt!

He opened his eyes to his beautiful wooden ceiling. He'd always wanted a sturdy home like this with a wooden ceiling. That kind of permanence was something he knew he could never have in his old line of work, so he'd daydream about it. Once the war was over, they'd worked hard for this house. They were still working hard for this house.

And usually he was fine with that.  
Working hard was in his nature.  
But not today.  
Today his limbs felt like solid marble, immoveable. There was only a small crack in the curtain but the room was still too bright.  
He felt absolutely no reason to get out of bed.  
Even though he had work.  
Even though he had people depending on him as the head of the department.  
It didn't feel like people actually needed him.  
Why would people need him?  
He was a useless ex-murderer.  
All of his daily routines felt like they had dissolved in the back of his mind.  
They did not feel like they mattered.  
He didn't matter either.  
So he stared at his wooden ceiling for about an hour, or at least until the man he protected for years woke up next to him.

Said man stretched and made a sleepy sound of surprise, "Mrph! What're y'still doing here, love?"  
God he didn't want to deal with this right now.  
He turned to face the window and said, "Don't think anything of it. Just carry on as if I am not here."  
"That don't answer my question...are you sick? Do you not feel well?"  
"No, please. Just go on with your day."  
"Hey," he felt a hand on his arm but he slowly pulled it away, which was met with another "Hey. That's for everyone else. Not for me. Remember? That's what I'm here for."  
"This just happens sometimes. Think nothing of it."  
He felt the sheets shift behind him.  
His partner had sat up.  
"Oh god...I'm sorry I had no idea. For how long?"  
"Please. It's okay, it's nothing just please go on with your day."  
"I'm already not doing that so you're just gonna have t'put up with me."  
Normally he would have found that loyalty and humor charming, but on these days he felt so vulnerable he didn't feel anything but the desire to run away.  
He wouldn't, of course; he didn't want to move. So he felt trapped. So he lashed out.  
"Why do you never listen to me?! Just GO."  
"I-I do listen but you're not listening to me."  
And he was being grabbed and pulled in and suddenly he was where he said a year ago he'd always want to be, in the arms that he had taken bullets for - had taken bullets for him. Warmth. Security. He didn't deserve this -  
God he was such an -

"You listen to me right now, okay"  
"Whuh-"  
"What you're goin' through? It doesn't make you any less of who you are. It doesn't mean you're weak."  
He didn't know he was crying because he wasn't sobbing.  
There was just suddenly water on his face.  
"I know that word is in your head. I know that's what you think. Me mum used to have days like this, and she was the strongest person I ever knew. Yeah. Stronger than anyone we know. Not even saying that to make you feel better. That's fact, that is. Some days me and my sisters just wouldn't have bagged lunches for us when we were about to go to school. That didn't mean we didn't love our mum. We learned to understand, and I talked with her about it when she got older. I learned that I couldn't snap me fingers and make everything be better for her. So I'd make her tea and make the lunches for me and my sisters and leave her until she'd come out of her room. And when she did, she'd just say 'thank you.' And so I know I can't snap me fingers to make you feel better either. But please don't exacerbate this and punish yourself by pushing me away. Lemme help you. Or at least just lemme be here, and hold you. If y'don't, this is gonna be a long-ass life, darling."

Okay now he was sobbing.  
He was just fortunate that his other low days were when he was away on business.  
He'd never meant to be found out.  
He'd just conquer it alone over time, that was his plan.  
But now there was one arm around him and fingers in his hair and a chin on his head.

"You're staying home today. And so am I. I'm gonna make you a cup of whatever the fuck you're always drinking - I'll figure it out, shut up. I'm gonna make you that French stew I forget the name of and we'll watch Some Like it Hot like a million times. I'll call Colin, tell him you're sick with something. You've never taken a damn sick day in your bloody life. If they complain I'll kill every last one of 'em."  
He moved his hands up to his face and wiped the tears there before saying, "Be patient with me."  
"Of course."  
"I love you so much."  
"I love you too. Now c'mon. If you don't feel like getting outta bed I'll carry you."


	3. I'm Here

He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes while walking down the hall to the bathroom. He tried for the handle, but the door was locked from the inside.

"I'm here. Try again later."  
"Oh for CHRIST'S sake, you skinny bastard. D'you really gotta do this every. Damn. Day?!"  
"Go to the bathroom? Usually people do that, yes. I'm sure you do too."  
"Yeah! Yeah, I bloody do!! So explain to me what gives you the bleedin' right to lock the main door while you fuckin' tweeze nose hairs?! There's what, 4 stalls in there? And a mirror big enough for a whole prom of vain fucks like you?! I'm gonna break the door down."  
"No you're not."  
"Oh okay, high n' mighty, eh? It ever occur to you that I'm not the only one you're pissin' off lockin' the door?"  
"Mmm...no. I'm fine with just you."  
"Why you - RRRGGH - well this morning, Heavy's up and needs to get in there."  
"...you're bluffing."  
"Lotta good that's gonna do you, telling me I'm bluffing. Let him know you're here, big guy."  
WHUD. WHUD. WHUD.  
"Merde okay listen do not break down that door."  
"On three, Heavy. One..."  
"Don't break the door, RED will be furious."  
"Two..."  
"Okay okay I'll open the door just give me a few more minutes."  
Three!"

WHAM!  
The battering ram whacked the door clean off its hinges.

And there in the tile room stood Spy.  
With his mask off, blue eyes sparkling with horror in his stupid face.

He screeched like a tween girl and scrambled for his invisibility watch, flashing in and out of reality for a few moments before remaining hidden and screaming, "I knew you were bluffing! Heavy isn't even awake!"  
"Yeah," Sniper said, throwing the ram to the side of the room and moseying to the nearest stall, "I guess you got me."  
"What are you -"  
"Peeing."  
"OH GOD ALRIGHT YOU WIN YOU WIN."  
Frantic scattering, the clatter of product containers, and frantic scampering out the door.

Fuckin' finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably not what this prompt was digging for but Iunno I thought it was fun.  
> ^u^


	4. Fantasy

He'd never watched TV or movies growing up. His dad always said it was a waste of time. Could be doing better things like being a farmer or a doctor or kiss a girl one of these days you pouf.  
Ah. Good old man Mundy.

As such, he'd never watched the Lord of the Rings series. He hadn't even read them.  
So it was a great deal of general bewilderment when his boyfriend waltzed barefoot into the living room in a beautiful black and dark red robe with an abundance of disks in both hands and boldly proclaimed, as if he was a herald announcing the entrance of some royal, "I believe it is LotR time."

  
He was flummoxed.  
"What's a lowter? Those are DVDs, mate."  
A gasp of surprise. "Don't tell me - nooOoOO! You haven't ever seen these?! I mean they're barbaric, yes, but behind that brutality is such _power_ and _class_ and _character_. You must watch these with me immediately."  
He knew that tone of voice.  
It was happening.  
Not that he was at all opposed to the idea of watching a "lowter," but in the event that he was in any way opposed, he still wouldn't have had a choice.

So they curled up in their sleeping clothes on the couch with an absurd amount of salt-and-pepper popcorn ("I assure you it is five times better with pepper, you will simply have to trust me.") and a few plush red blankets. They'd be here a long time, apparently.

"Lowter" turned out to be Lord of the Rings because he was a doofus and didn't know the acronym.  
He really liked how slow it was.  
A lot of modern films flooded your vision with 5 cuts of people getting punched in the face per second and just an accosting amount of lens flares and a bunch of nondiegetic sound to be cool and try to be edgy.

  
Never in these films were you thinking "I want more things going on" because there's always a million, but never were you saying "I am overwhelmed" because the pacing, the way the shots breathed, the storytelling...it was just so good.  
Not to mention the music. He had a huge weakness for music.

\---

"I really like the bromance goin' on between this Strider guy and the elf right now. Good acting. Looks like the eyes of someone who would never take a bullet for his commander cus he'd always take out the guy first. I like that."  
"'Elf guy' is Legolas - you'd have known that if you hadn't just talked over his intro - and obviously Legolas is the best of all of them. No contest."  
"You're just saying that because he's the most like you."  
"...you think I'm like Legolas?"  
"Well you talk way more than him so far but you'd definitely be an elf."  
"I am legitimately touched. You now officially get poured a glass of wine. Good job."  
"Pffft," he snorted, taking the glass, "thanks."  
They clinked.


End file.
